Professor Tales
by FunnyLittleMe
Summary: Oh, why did they invite Sycamore? A collection of silly tales in which the other Professors regret inviting Sycamore to their serious meetings. Just a bit of fun, based on more the games because I've seen like, none of the anime. Rated T for occasional euphemisms.
1. Annual Summit Part I

**Well hey there. I see you've stumbled upon something silly I wrote when being inspired by, well, Professor Sycamore. There may be other parts, I'm not too sure yet. They're all most likely a little off character, but I assure you, this is for the benefit of humour. Or what I call humour. Whatever, Enjoy.**

**I apologise to any native French speakers for butchering your language. I tried. **

* * *

The annual Pokémon Professor summit was in full swing. There were drinks. Pieces of Cheri Berry on sticks, and the representative Professor from every region. Well, from at least a few- Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova… Although they were expecting one more. He was late, however, and the summit had gone ahead without him.  
Professor Samuel Oak, of Kanto, hovered by the mahogany table that was in the centre of the undoubtedly plain, and rather dull, room. So far, none of them had actually sat down to discuss any of the topics on the agenda- there was one certain fear in all of their minds, and that was that a certain late professor would appear extravagantly, as he always did. It was a wonder they still invited him to the bloody summit, but he was one of the leading minds when it came to research, and his ideas and theories were invaluable.

Oak nervously sat down near the head of the table and coughed expectantly. By the water fountain, Professor Birch, of Hoenn, looked over, and promptly allowed the small plastic cup he was filling to overflow onto his sandals. Damn. He knew he should have worn something other than shorts and sandals.

He tried to hide it from Professor Elm (visiting Professor of the Johto region, of course) and failed miserably, causing the bespectacled man to burst out laughing before trying to turn the laugh into a cough after Professor Rowan, Sinnoh's leading Pokémon researcher, shot him a look that said 'don't disturb the quiet'. He then glanced at the door, and then back to Elm. 'Please don't jinx it', that look spoke.

Professor Aurea Juniper, of Unova, quietly surveyed the snacks. It wasn't a particularly thrilling selection, and nobody had touched the berry sticks. Well, it looked like someone had taken a bite out of one of the Oran berries, and had quickly put it back down. She scowled at it, looking over her shoulder at her male colleagues, who were gathering by the table, apparently ready to start. She walked over, sighing deeply, and trying to ignore the worryingly placed wet patch on Birch's trousers that Elm seemed to be giggling hysterically at.

"Right, well, now that we've all settled down and it seems that…_he_ …isn't coming, how about we get down to business?" Rowan suggested, taking a spot at the head of the table, next to Oak and Elm. They all nodded an affirmative, with furtive glances cast at the double doors as if they were suddenly going to leap up and attack. When nothing happened, the table seemed to relax as Rowan shuffled his papers.  
"First topic would be the rising amounts of Zubat in Kanto. Oak, I hear they've been declared a national pest?"

Oak opened his mouth to speak, and the doors clattered open. The group let out a groan as one as a shadow was cast through it, one with long legs and fluffy hair.  
Professor Augustine Sycamore strolled in with the look of one who was deliberately late but thought it showed class. The door left open, Juniper got up with a sigh to close it, ignoring the wink she earned from the late professor.  
"Sorry I'm late!" he spoke, throwing himself into a chair opposite Rowan, his voice accented with the native dialect of Kalos, the region he hailed from. "Air traffic is terrible over Kanto, oui?"  
He gave a relaxed shrug. "But then, I suppose that comes from riding a Fletchling! Too small!" he laughed, long and loud, despite the fact no one else was laughing and Rowan was giving him a look that would freeze a Beartic.

"Uugh… Welcome, Professor Sycamore. I trust you are well?" the weary professor asked, glancing at Oak as Sycamore looked at his nails. "You have anything to report? I notice you didn't send the Noctowl back about the subjects that you wished to raise. You should be more involved in these summits, as Kalos' most esteemed professor."

Sycamore looked up, before nodding.  
"Oui, oui, of course monsieur. I have been quite well, but how about all of you fine gentlemen, and madam?" he asked, nodding to Juniper, who rubbed her face and nudged Oak in a vain attempt to get him to swap seats with her. Sycamore continued. "Ahh, Professor Elm, how is the family? Are you still obsessing over the Pokémon Eggs? And Oak, how is your grandson? I hear he visited Kalos! You must get him to learn the language better. The phrase 'smell ya later' is running rampant through the region."  
Sycamore continued, on a role and unabashed, not waiting for any of the other professors to actually answer his enquiries as to their wellbeing.  
"Birch, I hear Hoenn is suffering from a Zigzagoon epidemic. Such a shame. In Kalos, Zigzagoon are controlled, sometimes even shot for sport, oui? Ahh, I jest!" he laughed again, slapping the uncomfortable looking professor on the back. "And Rowan, how are you doing, my old friend? Still denying retirement? Such spirit! And Juniper, ahh, dear Madame Juniper, you're looking lovely. Your father is well? Delightful!"

He sat back, his introductions done. Birch edged a little way away, looking to Rowan for help in scavenging back the conversation.  
"Right, yes, well. As I was saying." Rowan started again. "The Zubats, Oak, how are they planning on dealing with them?"  
Oak cleared his throat, shuffling his papers. As one, the other Professors shared a glance at Sycamores lack of papers of his own.

"The Zubats have almost tripled in number in the past 2 years." The Kanto Professor spoke, peering at the numbers. "Efforts to halt their breeding with humane methods such as spraying repel in their popular breeding sites has been met with limited success and it seems the Zubats have developed an immunity against repel."  
There was a frightened gasp from Elm, who nervously took a sip of water to cover it. Oak continued, slightly put off by this and the fact Sycamore was smiling a wide grin as he listened attentively. A flick of his dark hair and Oak was forced to shuffle his papers again.  
"Uh, yes. Well, as we know, Zubats have become increasingly confident in the past five years with attacks on trainers almost increasing fourfold. With the rising population, it will be dangerous for trainers to walk through the main caves of the Kanto region without being accompanied with a very strong partner…Pokémon…"  
He glanced at Sycamore, who was rustling in a small tote bag no one had noticed him bring in.

The professors looked at each other, before Birch got up to refill his plastic cup from the water fountain, shuffling awkwardly so Sycamore didn't see the wet patch. As he was going so, there was a clank.  
"Birch, don't bother with that horrible fountain water. Try some of this!" came the accented voice Birch was dreading. The Hoenn professor looked around, to see Sycamore, sleeves rolled up, trying to open a bottle of champagne, glasses surrounding him.

"I really wish you wouldn't bring alcohol, Sycamore." Elm mumbled. "I'm teetotal. You know I've been alcohol free for three years."

Sycamore looked up, and nodded good naturedly.  
"Ah, sorry. It is easy to forget." He replied apologetically, as straining muscles tugged the cork away from the top of the bottle, causing it to froth slightly. He stared as the froth invaded his hands and made its slow way down the bottle and onto the table, invading Juniper's spot as she pulled her papers away in alarm.  
"Oh, so sorry Juniper."

He whipped out a handkerchief from a pocket in his shirt and dabbed the table delicately, before pouring out some of the champagne into five of the six glasses, getting up with a flourish and serving them to everyone but Elm, who stared worriedly at them.  
"A toast to Pokémon, I should think, oui?" Sycamore declared, raising his glass. He was looking so expectantly at the other professors that all of them, except Rowan, raised their glasses, Elm even raising an empty hand before realising he didn't have anything and putting it down. Sycamore tapped his glass with Junipers raised one, and settled back down, gesturing for Oak to speak once more. The Kanto professor looked warily at him, before beginning to speak again.  
Sycamore yawned very loudly, before apologizing quietly. It was too late, Oak was thrown off. He sat down, lamely concluding his report.

"And that is why, um, we should, uh… Take extra caution. With Zubats." He muttered, looking at his lap, as Rowan rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at the clipboard he had brought with him.

"Right, next order on the agenda… The rising number of so called _Legendary Pokémon_. Pokémon with such power that they could have the ability to raise the sea level, and there are rumours of, if my report by Champion Cynthia is correct, of a God Pokémon, and let's not forget that narrowly averted catastrophe with the Time and the Space Pokémon. Dialga and Palkia…" he began, passing out sheets of paper to the assembled professors. Sycamore looked at his intensely, stroking the whiskers on his face as if deep in thought. Rowan subtly rolled his eyes, before clearing his throat. "This diagram illustrates the average size of a…_Legendary_…Pokémon. Although there are some…discrepancies… I'm sorry, what is that awful smell?"  
He sniffed. Something stank. Like old socks, or possibly mould. There was a pause, a moment of silence where each of the Professors looked at each other and then, as one, turned slowly to look at Sycamore incredulously.

He looked up from where he was examining the paper, before clicking his fingers and diving back to scrabble in the tote bag. When he reappeared, the smell got even worse, and Sycamore produced what could vaguely resemble cheese. It was blue.  
"Ah, oui, I forgot! Finest Miltank cheese in Kalos. I brought it to go with the crackers." he paused for a moment, before diving back down towards the bag once more. He rose back up, looking disappointed, his hair somehow deflating as if it was representing this. "I am sorry. I appear to have forgotten that crackers, but…"  
He pulled out a cheese knife from some unknown place about his person with such vigour that Elm squeaked a little in terror, clutching his papers to his chest as if they offered some protection from the mad Kalos professor with a cheese knife.  
"It does not mean we cannot enjoy this, oui?"

Rowan stared, breathing deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. His therapist had gone through it with him, the last time they'd invited Sycamore. He'd been given drugs to help him sleep. Calm down. He fished in his pocket, drawing out a small bottle, taking a sniff of the concoction within. He shuddered a little, ignoring the horrified gaze from Oak, before sitting down.  
"As I was saying…" he snapped, cutting over Sycamore's good natured theory on why Kalos cheese beat Johto hands down. The Kalos professor stopped talking and smiled at him, completely unaware.

"My apologies, Rowan. Carry on." He slipped in, regardless of the fact that Rowan was speaking anyway.

"As I was saying… The time has come to decide what is done about the Legendary Pokémon… Trainers have met some success with catching them, but... but… Yes, Sycamore?" Rowan relented wearily, looking at the patiently waiting professor, who rose to his feet.

"Merci, monsieur. Might I add my opinion that it would be, ah… trés bien, if we simply left these Pokémon alone? Let them run free? Rather than encourage our trainers to study them?" he suggested, flicking his hair. The assembled professors looked at Rowan, who let out a sigh as the opposite professor sat down, smiling widely.

"That is a very valid point, Professor Sycamore. We will take it into consideration." He said, with a deep breath. As he opened his mouth to continue, a loud rumbling noise erupted from Birch's side of the table, and he clutched his stomach, going bright red, muttering apologies.

"I'm sorry, I'm just hungry, it's been a long day." He wailed, glancing at Sycamore, who was nodding sympathetically, hands clasped together, before catching sight of his own watch and staring at it in horror akin to the expression you might have if you discovered your spouse in bed with someone else. Probably Sycamore, Rowan remarked silently. Once he'd thought that, it was an impossible mental image to shake. He would need to bring it up in his next therapy session.

"Mon dieu! It's four in the afternoon already! Perhaps it would be best if we adjourn for a snack? Bien, as we say in Kalos!"  
Augustine Sycamore excitedly clapped his hands together.  
"It is a good thing I planned ahead and booked us a brief table at the Café Kanto, just across the street, on my way in. We can continue our discussion there."

"Is that such a good idea? It'll be public…" Juniper raised a valid point hesitantly, and the other professors nodded sagely. Sycamore made a dismissive noise, waving a hand in a gesture that was clearly perfected from months, years of dismissively waving his hand at aides, children, lovers alike.

"Beautiful Juniper, do not fret, oui? I had it all arranged. Our secrets…" he paused to wink at her and she stared at the table with an expression that looked like she'd seen the most horrible things in the world, and none of them topped being chatted up by Augustine Sycamore, who continued. "Our secrets are perfectly safe."

Rowan rubbed his face. The meeting, which he had hoped would be over by the time night fell, suddenly seemed to have the potential to stretch well into the night. No doubt Sycamore would have booked a table at a highly expensive restaurant, and then would graciously pay for all their meal, which would mean another two hours spent in the flamboyant man's company.

It was just too much. He crumpled his head into his arms and groaned, trying to block out the voice that asked all too kindly.

"Rowan, monsieur? Whatever is the matter?"


	2. Annual Summit Part II

**Sorry about the false update, accidentally posted without editing. Woops! If you see any more mistakes, please correct me, it's almost half past midnight and I should be asleep.**

**Second part for people because you seemed to enjoy it? I'm going to start taking prompts, leave a review if you have an idea or if you just like this story. Someone take Professor Sycamore away from me because I'm just having too much fun with this.**

**I apologise French speakers. I really really do. **

* * *

**Previously in Professor Tales; Professor Sycamore gate crashed, and yet was invited, to the Annual Summit. Through a sequence of amusing conversations, the collected Professors have now been herded towards a late afternoon snack, without actually ever being aware of agreeing to it.**

Café Kanto, a small uptown establishment in uptown Saffron City was the now apparent site of the Annual Summit. It was quiet, cosy, with a Chandelure holding onto the low ceiling, threatening to bash visitors on the head and a Charmander keeping a selection of pastries warm whilst occasionally eating one.  
The five Pokémon Professors of the regions of Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh and Unova had no say in the matter, it seemed. Professor Augustine Sycamore had booked the table already; it was impossible to say no to a man who was so good-natured that he would probably understand that you didn't want to go to a restaurant with him, despite the fact he'd booked the table- this didn't help. This wasn't a good point to his name. In Professor Rowan's point of view, this counted against him- it made you want to dislike the man _but then feel bad for doing so because he was so damn charming!_

The late afternoon snack was rapidly hurtling towards a full on dinner- so far, they'd spent an hour watching Sycamore greet the Kalosian restaurant owner- there was a great deal of hugging involved.

"_Ah, Professor Sycamore! What a surprise to see you way over here in Kanto, oui?"_

"Oui, oui! I am here for the Professor Summit. Perhaps you could find a table for my dear friends and I? And drinks too, s'il vous plait! Merci!"

The owner had guided them around his glorious establishment and Rowan had to admit, it was a lovely café, with a peaceful, calming atmosphere, despite Sycamore's loud proclamations of how he missed a traditional Kalos café, even though he'd literally been in Kalos that morning. They finally settled on a table, Birch looking increasingly uncomfortable about the fact he was wearing still wet shorts and sandals rather than anything classy.  
Sycamore sat at the head of the table, still talking to the restaurant owner. Occasional flashes of the Kalos native tongue would slip in, right before Sycamore burst into laughter, without even trying to explain in to his awkward looking companions who shuffled in their seats until Sycamore realised he was neglecting the people he saw as his guests- after all, he was paying- and apologized with a great deal of genuine sadness.  
"Ah, sorry, I forget, not everyone speaks like we do in Kalos… Perhaps you'd feel more at ease with some drinks, oui, to whet your appetite before a good meal. _Garçon_, perhaps you could bring us your finest red wine? Oh, and a glass of water for dear Professor Elm." He requested, casting a bright look towards Elm, who shrank in his seat and fiddled with his glasses.

As they were waiting for their drinks, Rowan cleared his throat.  
"Well, while we're here, I suppose we should carrying on discussing-"

Sycamore shook his head, his hair flopping madly as he waved his hands to stop Rowan. He leaned back and cast them all a relaxed gaze.  
"Non, Rowan, that will not do. Business is for after the meal, oui?" he corrected, nodding self assuredly. "Rowan, monsieur, I do worry about you. All business and no relaxation. In Kalos we take things easy, oui? You will live longer!"  
He met Rowan's icy glare with an oblivious, friendly look of his own, nodding knowingly when Rowan muttered something under his breath and sat back, rolling his eyes, slumped in his chair next to Oak, who looked worriedly at him as if to say, 'If Rowan can't stop him, who will?!'  
There was a horrible awkward silence that seemed to affect everyone but Sycamore, punctuated by Elm nervously taking a small piece of bread from the bread basket and buttering it with shaking hands as the waiter and the owner arrived with a large bottle of red wine and a small, but nonetheless magnificent, glass of water.

The glasses were poured, Sycamore murmuring in foreign excitedness at the vintage of the wine. He took his glass, standing on long legs and giving each of his fellow professors a long, bright look as the waiter and the owner went away again.  
"I propose a toast, to Pokémon."

4 hands holding glasses of red wine and one holding a small glass of water obediently raised themselves into the air, despite their owners not really telling them to.  
They all drained their glasses on Sycamore's signal. Professor Elm, three year teetotal, once upon a time a depressive alcoholic who used to drink to clear his head for research, was looking longingly at the bottle of expensive red wine that Sycamore was justifying as being for "_A special occasion, oui_?". He reached for it, and Sycamore slapped his hand away lightly, tutting.

"Non, Elm! Think of your family! Of your research, monsieur! Do not fall to such petty temptation!"

Elm's lower lip wobbled, and he laid his head on the table, staring blankly into the middle distance. Juniper patted him on the back, before turning to Sycamore to breach the eternal question in order to break the monumentally awkward silence the table had fallen into.  
"Ah, Sycamore, what sort of meal are we having?"

He turned to her, smile practically sparkling like he'd deliberately buffed his teeth. He probably did do that, Rowan mumbled silently to himself, leaning his chin on his elbow despite the affront to good manners. Oak did the same thing, seemingly relying on his mentor to give him guidance in this troubling time. Sycamore winked one eye slowly at Juniper, who flushed, more out of embarrassment than anything that such a thing would happen in front of her colleagues. Realistically, she should have been used to it by now. It happened _every summit_.  
"Ah, Juniper, please, call me Augustine. I insist." He told her, patting her hand so she writhed in half anger and half shame that some part of her squealed like a girl. Some very small, very immature part.

She sighed.  
"_Augustine_, what are we having to eat?" she repeated, rolling her eyes. Sycamore, oblivious to her strident annoyance, clapped his hands together and nodded to each of the assembled professors.

"I shall bring us some menus and you may order anything! It's all on me, as my treat." He declared. Normally, they'd all be happy about this. The fact that it made it even more difficult to dislike Sycamore made it worse, especially when you reminded yourself that you'd have to face him and swallow your pride as you said through gritted teeth 'thank you' and he assured you it was no trouble at all. _At all._ It was _his pleasure_.

Sycamore disappeared to find some menus and there was a groan as Birch collapsed onto the table, looking at Rowan desperately.  
"I can't take it anymore, Rowan, I can't." he hissed very quietly under his breath. The professors leaned their heads in so they could talk without being overly obvious about the fact that they were disenchanted with the good Professor Sycamore. Birch rubbed his face roughly with calloused hands made hard from years of fieldwork. "Being chased by a Zigzagoon is a walk in the park compared to this."

There was a nodding from each of the assembled professors, and Oak nodded bravely at Birch.  
"Just a little bit more, Birch. As soon as we're done here we can go back to finishing this discussion and then head back home to recover until next year." He told him, before promptly realising that next year was an actual thing that could happen- would happen, his face crumpling. "Another year to prepare, to perhaps bring lunch of our own. That would be an excuse, surely…"

"I found the menus!"

The professors sprang back to their seating positions, looking nonchalant, apart from Elm who failed to look anything other than guilty, earning him a strange look from Sycamore. The negative expression seemed out of place on the professors handsome face.  
"Are you alright there, Elm?" he asked, laying 6 menus down and settling himself back into his chair, not catching the pained squeak from Elm has he was viciously elbowed in the ribs by Rowan. Sycamore distributed the menus, laying his own out flat and perusing it. "You are in for a treat, mes amis! I would suggest the Magikarp as a main course, the chef here is a master. Although you are vegetarian, Birch, so for you I would recommend a healthy _ratatouille_. 5 different kinds of berries!"  
He flicked to the starters.  
"No meal would be complete without starters, oui? Perhaps the soup of today? Tamato and Spelon berry, I recall."

"I'm allergic to, um, Tamato berries." Oak mumbled. "Although the Lansat berry salad seems nice…"

Sycamore grinned, rubbing hands together and summoning the waiter. He, of course, ordered the soup of the day, along with Elm and Juniper, who earned a wide and unwanted grin from him for doing that. Oak ordered the salad, and Birch, a Nomel berry sauce soaked Chesto salad. Rowan ordered, feeling slightly guilty, Shellder marinated in Iapapa sauce, feeling even more guilty when they arrived and they were still in shells, eyes closed peacefully. He prised them out, trying to ignore Birch's horrified stare.

"No offence to any of your regions, mes copains, but Kalos food trumps yours every time." Sycamore announced after he was done. "And we're not even on the main course yet."  
He paused, looking in interest as another group of diners came through the doors, greeted by the cheerful restaurant owner. The other professors made a point of looking like they were examining their menus as Sycamore's attention was drawn to an attractive looking woman standing with what Rowan hoped was a boyfriend. That way, he noted rather sadistically, he would be able to watch Sycamore's charm get shot down for once.

"I'm going to have the honey drizzled Farfetch'd, I think." Oak said cautiously as the waiter approached them. "Sorry Birch."

"Oui, oui… And your House Magikarp for me. No bones." Sycamore muttered absent minded, eyes fixed on the pretty woman now laughing with her table. He noticed her get up to go to the bar, before nodding to the professors and getting up too. The professors strained to get a glimpse of what was going on, ears straining to hear what was being said, Elm taking advantage of the quiet to sneakily pour himself a glass of red wine. And then another, with none of theprofessors none the wiser.  
Rowan watched in disbelief as the young woman shook Sycamore's hand and then laughed at something he said. How was this even happening?

They sat there for a while, a good half an hour, entranced by what they were all watching. Sycamore was making the woman laugh, making her smile, and almost everything he said was punctuated with a wink and a smile. A well timed nod, a well timed flick of the hair. It was like watching a Goldeen being reeled in by a prime fisherman, knowing what was going to happen at the end and practically feeling the Pokémons eventual fate.  
It was interrupted by a belch and a hiccup, so loud that even Sycamore turned in surprise back to the table. The waiter was putting down their impressively fast made meals, and Elm had promptly passed out in his spiced Ducklett. Sycamore, glancing at the lady, who seemed confused and worried by what she had seen, made a decision to come over, immediately taking in the fact the bottle of red wine left before was now missing a considerable amount.

"Monsieur Elm, what have you done?" he exclaimed, shaking the Johto professors shoulder. "Non non non, this will not do at all. What should we do?"  
He seemed genuinely worried, casting anxious looks at the other professors.

Rowan sighed; once again, up to him to take charge.  
"We should have been paying attention to Elm's drinking habits. It seems the Summit will have to be postponed until tomorrow- we shall have to book Elm into a hotel room and hope he sobers up."

"We can't leave him by himself, he might be seriously ill." Juniper pointed out. "One of us will have to go with him."

Sycamore nodded immediately.  
"I take full responsibility for this, I should not have got that wine when Elm was suffering so… so… much with the _vin rouge._ I shall go." He decided, nodding, before glancing back at the young lady at the bar.

Oak, surprising even himself, realised that someone would have to chaperone the chaperone, and shook his head.  
"It's a two man job, Sycamore, I'll come with you." He volunteered himself, causing the other professors to look at him in surprise. "What? Elm is a good friend and _will need careful monitoring_."

Sycamore nodded.  
"Exactly!" he cried, completely missing the stress in the Kanto professors voice as he moved to sit back down at his seat, eyeing the meal in front of him. "I'll pay for the meals, of course, but what matters now is that we take care of poor Elm here. But it would be a shame to waste good food, so let's finish up here, oui?"

Elm snored on, unaware that 5 Pokemon professors were eating Kalos cuisine whilst he slept in it.

**Crappy ending is crappy. Enjoy and review it!**


	3. Annual Summit Part III

**You asked, and you shall receive. Further episodes of the Professor Tales. As to prompts, yes, I will look towards writing up any I get but they'll be put into a queue format. As I'm busy with college, other fanfics, and NaNoWriMo, Professor Tales doesn't really take the priority but I will get to it in time. I do enjoy writing this ridiculous crap. XD**

**Please feel sorry for Oak in this chapter. Please.**

**I'm sorry French speakers.**

* * *

**Previously, on Professor Tales: Sycamore has inadvertently led to Elm passing out. The duty falls to him and Oak to drag that poor Johto Professor into a hotel room and delay the Summit once again.**

Oak was regretting volunteering himself to help Augustine Sycamore drag Professor Elm back into a hotel room. The first instance of regret had presented itself when they left the other professors outside the restaurant and had bundled into a taxi, with Oak simply burbling that they needed to go to a hotel, preferably a nice one. The second instance was when he was forced to translate Sycamores slurred Kalosian speech to the hotel staff. Rowan had told him to ring if anything major came up, but what counted as major? Did the receptionist slapping Sycamore count as major?

The only reason they'd been allowed to stay in the room was because Oak had been forced to think quickly and apologise on the other professors behalf, to explain very quickly that the esteemed Professor Sycamore had unfortunately had a little bit too much to drink _despite _the other Professors urging him not to back at the restaurant. Professor Birch had got very heated, before launching into a debate with Sycamore about vegetarianism, and Sycamore had tried to argue back, before steadily being convinced by the admittedly eloquent Birch that berries were the way to go. Oak doubted that he'd remember any of that, though.  
As far as he could recall, the hotel did a full fry up at breakfast. It was likely Augustine Sycamore would go for one of the more traditional hangover remedies, Grumpig strips with Tamato berry fried on the side. And strong coffee.

A lot of strong coffee.

Samuel Oak had to admit, the compulsion to drink now, as he was trying to get Sycamore to help him with Elm, was overwhelming. Maybe the room had a minibar? And he could simply get Sycamore to pay it; after all, he'd paid for everything since, even that expensive chocolate fountain back at the restaurant. Admittedly, he had been fairly drunk by that point, although none of the other professors seemed to have any qualms. Juniper seemed pretty happy, although made the mistake of saying she shouldn't have it due to her diet. Sycamore had promptly leapt upon the chance to assure her she did not _need_ to diet, that her figure _was perfect_, and that in Kalos she would be considered a _super model_.  
Rowan had quietly muttered to Oak that everyone in Kalos was a super model. Some people considered it a requirement to be attractive in Kalos, before he swiftly corrected himself and told Oak that it was merely a rumour and _of course there were ugly people in Kalos too_.

Oak shouldered Elm, dragging him up the steps to the room. Why did the elevator have to be out? Was it an unwritten law of the Universe that all elevators had to be out at the _exact_ time you really really needed them? Then again, knowing his luck, it would most likely be like every other elevator available to the public- it would have that dubious pool of water in the corner and a smell that reminded you a little like a Skuntank, and a small security camera in the corner so that if you were the one making that small pool of water then they'd stare at you and try to make you insecure and never actually do anything about it.

Yes, this was likely, despite the fact that the establishment the taxi had dropped them off at was a rather famously recognised five star hotel, one that had offered the services of a concierge to physically carry Elm up to their room before Oak had foolishly declined. This was before he'd known the lift would be broken. Now he was doing most of the work dragging Elm up the stairs. The poor little man's glasses were gone, Arceus knew where, and Sycamore was laxly helping.  
A small part of Oak noted bitterly that he himself was in his sixties, and Sycamore still had a good few years before he was entitled to a senior citizen card. The man probably lifted weights, and yet he still struggled to lift Elm as he staggered up the steps.

"Oak, mon ami, how much longer must we climb? Does this hotel extend into the heavensh?" Sycamore complained, a small slurring on the last word that he strove to drunkenly correct. Oak twitched a little, but at least the man was speaking something he could understand. Sycamore continued. "It feels like we have wasted half of our life walking this stairs, non?"

Oak didn't reply, glancing at what floor they were on.  
"Floor… Five. This is the one." He said finally, nodding to the door that Sycamore leapt to graciously hold open for him and promptly fell through. The Kalosian staggeringly got up, adjusted his hair, and this time managed to keep the door open, smiling proudly as if nothing had ever happened, bowing his head a little as Oak hoisted Elm through, whilst fumbling for the key to their door.  
"Room 5G." he muttered nodding to the sign, more for his own benefit than Sycamores. Should be up along this corridor."  
He took a moment to stretch out his back- it was going to be sore in the morning- and dragged Elm along with him, propping him up next to the door as he got out the key card and pressed it to the sensor. It flashed green, accompanied with a beep and an 'ooooooh' from Sycamore, and Oak kicked the door open. He staggered through, dragging Elm with him, Sycamore walking behind them, tilting slightly, closing the door as Oak hoisted the still sleeping Elm onto the bed. He sat back on a chair, taking in the room.

It was a very small room. It had two single beds, and he glanced at Sycamore, and then at the sleeping Elm. Oak perched himself on the side of the remaining single bed as Sycamore flopped down onto the end, lying back. The awkward silence that permeated the room was broken only by a snore from Elm, before Oak got up, venturing into the en suite bathroom to see if there was a free toothbrush for him to use.

No such luck. When he got back, Sycamore had located the minibar, and was mixing up a drink that was an interesting, if slightly worrying, bright green colour.  
"Oak, mon ami, you have to try my specialty." He began, turning to look at the stricken Kanto professor, who shook his head and waved his arms frantically.

"No, no, I'm fine for tonight." He babbled, all thoughts from before of maybe having a drink having disappeared from his brain. "No, seriously, please don't make me-"  
The green liquid, garnished with a slice of Rawst berry Sycamore seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, was pushed to his lips by the enthusiastic professor. Oak had no choice but to drink and-  
Was thoroughly surprised. Sweet despite the Rawst berry, he detected hints of fermented Pecha berries in it, with a spice that could only be traced back to what was most definitely a Cheri berry whiskey.

Sycamore watched him drink it gleefully.  
"It is perfect, is it not?!" he asked, preparing himself some, surrounded by various bottles and spirits, some that Oak wasn't entirely sure were from the minibar. At this point, however, he had ceased to care. He sat down on the bed with his drink and watched as Sycamore threw off his lab coat and sat next to him.  
Oak nervously took a sip.

"So." He mumbled, trying to fill the silence between himself and the drunk Kalosian man who shouldn't really have been drinking anymore but was anyway. "How's research in Kalos?"

Sycamore looked at him with the first genuinely serious, withering expression he'd seen the man pull since he'd been there.  
"Oak, Samuel, monsieur, let's not speak work, s'il vous plait. Let us speak… Family. Monsieur, how is your grandson?" he asked, smiling as he finished. "He made quite a stir in Kalos, I think I mentioned?"

Oak blinked, before nodding nervously, unsure of where the conversation could lead.  
"Uh, yes. He enjoyed his trip, and showed me many of the new Pokémon he'd caught and encountered. I was particularly interested in the Espu-"

"Non! Let us not talk of Espurr. I see enough of those Pokémon outside my lab on a daily basis." Sycamore interrupted bluntly. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'creepy little bastards', before continuing on. "Did your grandson spend time to see the sights of Kalos? The Prism Tower? The Tower of Mastery?"  
He didn't wait for Oaks answer.  
"Lumiose City is often called the most beautiful city in the world." He said, almost sorrowfully as Oak was forced to listen lest he feel bad for interrupting the man. "We have beautiful buildings, beautiful Pokémon, beautiful people…"

Sycamore gave an overly dramatic sigh, and collapsed backwards onto the bed, flopping one hand over his eyes.  
"I met the most beautiful woman in the world in a café in Lumiose." He began morosely. Oak could see the train wreck coming, he opened his mouth to stop it, but it was too late. Professor Sycamore was gone, away and talking. "She had hair like the sun, monsieur, and eyes like the sky. Big and blue and they glittered like stars at night."  
Oak shuffled awkwardly, unsure of whether to pat Sycamore on the shoulder or listen intently. He didn't _want_ to listen- but it was impossible not to. Sycamore was just too eloquent with his story telling.

"Samuel, monsieur, I would have married her. Our children would have been beautiful." He whispered, staring at the patterned ceiling. Oak became increasingly aware that the other man was crying as a soft tear dripped from the corner of one eye, down his cheek into the whiskers that made up his side burns. He reached a hand over and patted Sycamore on the forehead as casually as he possibly could, the other man completely unaware of it.  
"But I missed my chance, monsieur! I missed my chance and she walked out of my life." He was mumbling. "Like an Abra, simply _gone_, just like that. _Just like that_. Who knows where she is now, monsieur? Will there ever be a woman like her?"

Oak frowned. If Sycamore, who, he had to be fair, was very attractive, was having doubts that he would find another woman, what chance did a Normal Man have? One who didn't wear his shirt with the top buttons undone and his hair naturally fluffy and his trousers far too tight? Oak was just lucky he'd been in a steady marriage for the past forty four years. He'd reached that stage in his life where there were things he had to be thankful for, and having a woman who put up with waking up with a Muk in the bed instead of her husband was one of them.

Sycamore was mumbling on.  
"Sometimes I think I see her, out the corner of my eye… Was she even human?" The alcohol was clearly having its effect right now. Oak eyed the still left out cocktail ingredients on the side suspiciously, getting up to lock them away just in case Elm woke up before them.  
He didn't want to have to go through this again another night. The idea of having Rowan glare at him instead of Sycamore was far too much. Sycamore was immune to it, he didn't even seem to notice it, but Oak? Oak wasn't nearly that strong.  
He turned around to see Sycamore had fallen asleep and was now snoring softly, draped across the bed like a prize winning Glameow. A lesser man would have bitterly compared him to a Purugly but it was impossible to make that comparison. It was mentally impossible- it couldn't be done. At all.

He went over to check on Elm. The man was completely out of it, snoring in the most undignified, yet quiet way. Oak arranged him in a way so that if he was sick, well, they'd have to clean less of it up, before pouring a glass of water and sitting it on the bedside table next to Elm. He'd want that later, when he was nursing a hangover the size of the Johto/Kanto landmass. As well as this, Oak fished an old, rather dubious packet of aspirin out from his coat pocket. Ahhh, he knew he had some left. It was probably out of date, but if worse came to worse he could offer that to Elm.

There was probably an expensive packet that you could buy somewhere in the hotel, but Oak's head hurt too much to comprehend this. It was two in the morning. The time had flown by. How had it got to two in the morning? He took off his lab coat, the special one Gary had gotten him that had 'Pops' sewn into the collar, as well as different pockets everywhere about it. It had sentimental value, in that it was genuinely the only present Gary had ever gotten him that was useful. An earwax remover kit, one sock, a golfing set when he didn't play golf and a ticket to go see the All Man Production of the Cerulean Mermaids were amongst the history of presents he'd received before.

In hindsight, none of them were great. He filled himself a glass of water, sipping it gently as he observed the two sleeping professors, before he washed it up and put it back. Sighing, Oak sat down on the opposite side of the bed. Sycamore was taking up most of it. Crouching into the foetal position, Oak lay his head down and tried to sleep, and tried to forget what an utter train wreck the entire Summit had been so far, as well as trying not to imagine what Rowan's expression would be.

* * *

**I love this series.**


	4. Annual Summit Part IV

**Greetings one and all. Thank you for your kind reviews, I love reading them and they really spur me to write more. Review more if you like this series, I really do enjoy seeing them come into my inbox!**

* * *

**Previously on Professor Tales: Professor Oak is saddled with a drunken Sycamore and a passed out Elm in a hotel room that may or may not be charging them for alcohol. He has spent the following night trying to sleep on the tiny slice of bed not being taken up by Professor Augustine Sycamore's splayed arms and legs.  
**

The bird Pokémon had started singing about an hour before the sun had come up.  
The sun had come up about three hours before Professor Sycamore stirred.  
Professor Elm had stirred approximately an hour before Professor Sycamore dragged himself out of bed and tried to fumblingly work out where he was in a mixture of drunken Kalosian and slurred Kantos tongue before stumbling to the bathroom and looking into the great white eye that was the toilet.

Professor Oak had witnessed all of this because, unlike the two other professors, he had not slept at all. He was there when Elm woke up with a groan and a high pitched sob, and he had quickly, or as quickly as a man deprived of sleep could go, stepped in to force painkillers down the Johto professor's neck and make him a very strong cup of coffee.

His eyes felt like they were constantly lifting miniature weights every time he blinked. He looked like crap, and yet when Professor Sycamore emerged from the bathroom- Oak having a sneaking suspicion he had managed a quick shower before coming back out- he looked as fresh as a daisy and just as ready for the world as he had yesterday. Only the tired frown and the small groan of 'mon dieu! My head…' betrayed the level of a hangover Sycamore was dealing with.

Oak would even have gone so far as to say that Sycamore had drunk the same amount as Elm and, whereas Elm was sobbing quietly about how he'd shamed his family and himself before sobbing then about how the noise of his sobbing made him sob, Sycamore was curiously looking around the hotel room for anything he might have missed the previous night, his memory being intact in such a way that it could be considered miraculous, if Oak was a religious man.  
He watched in annoyed exasperation as Sycamore picked up a hand towel and buried his face in it, before leaning back with an expression of approval and glancing at Oak.

"You picked a good hotel, monsieur. The towels smell of Pecha berry flowers." Sycamore complimented him, before lying on the bed he'd taken up most of the night before. Oak half glared, half stared at him with bagged eyes that hurt to move from the other bed, where he poured Elm another cup of coffee and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.  
Sycamore continued, now rooting around in the bedside cabinet, Oak turning to see an unwanted view of the professors backside stuck in the air as he had a look.

"Ah, oui, look, monsieur." He said, pointing to a book he'd just withdrawn. "A posh copy of the Arceus bible. Alas, I am used to the Kalosian version."  
He snorted suddenly, waving one arm in the air. Oak looked closely at what was enclosed in the hand at the end of the arm and found himself flushing.  
"They provide you with _everything_ here, don't they?" Sycamore exclaimed wildly, dropping the arm and shuffling back onto the bed, staring at the- Oak didn't really spend too much time thinking about it- preventatives. Oak turned back to Elm, getting up to soak a wet flannel and drape it over the professors head as Sycamore entertained himself with the dubious nature of the free goodies from the hotel.

"Ahaha, monsieur, look, sitrus berry flavoured. Why do we not have these in Kalos?"

Oak tried to phase it out, remembering of course that Sycamore would likely be pacified if they were to attend breakfast. Or what would most likely be breakfast- Oak had lost all sense of time, and was operating on the fact that the street outside was not filled with tourists yet and it was hence probably still morning. Perhaps ten o'clock.  
"How about we attempt to go downstairs and enjoy breakfast?" he suggested, a wild shot in the dark. He half regretted it when Sycamore looked at him seriously and nodded violently.

"Oui! Marvellous idea! I am starving." He replied enthusiastically, getting up so swiftly it looked to Oak like he went from a lying sitting position straight into standing up tall, looking at Elm with a puzzled expression, like he was trying to work out a great puzzle. "What about Monsieur Elm, though? Shall we leave him here?"

Oak shook his head, approaching Elm and wringing cold water onto his head.

"Come along, Elm, old friend. We're going to get some breakfast. Get some cereal down your throat and you'll be as chipper as…As…" he struggled to find a comparison, his fatigued mind simply drawing the word 'sycamore' repeatedly when he tried to think, before settling lamely on "as a Rattata."

"Only the top percentage of Rattata's is worth comparison." Elm muttered with a groan. "Some kid told me that."

He heaved himself up, trying to open his eyes without triggering an increase in the agony of his migraine. Oak watched as he smiled gratefully at him, an unseen message passing between them- thanks for looking out for me. Then Oak saw Elm focus on Sycamore, and his face fall, as if he'd just realised the dream that he _thought_ had been strangely realistic was true.

He flopped his head back onto the pillow.

"Will there be more strong coffee?" he asked eventually. Oak nodded, and after a while, Elm dragged himself out of bed once more, still dressed in what he'd been wearing the previous night and stumbled towards the door, fumbling with the handle.

Oak got up, just in time for Sycamore to sweep past and open the door for Elm, who squinted at him and then at the door.

"Where are my glasses?" he asked eventually, as they were heading down the corridor. Through bleary eyes and an even blearier mind, Oak tried to remember where possibly Elm's glasses had come off of his head, and realised that it was impossible. He simply shrugged and tried to ignore the depressed little sigh Elm gave in reply.

They walked to the stairs, Sycamore taking them two at a time, and Elm taking them one step every three seconds, one hand holding his head and the other holding the banister tightly. Oak hovered between them, torn between accompanying Elm and keeping careful eye on Sycamore so that he didn't wander off and get into trouble.

The result was a slow progression down the numerous flights of stairs, Sycamore eventually expressing his impatience and hunger with one singularly tapping foot at the bottom of the last staircase as Oak helped Elm down the steps slowly. Together, they progressed as one, pausing to allow Elm to recover from motion sickness halfway there, into the dining hall.

It wasn't hard to see that it was going to be expensive. There was a chandelier in the shape of a Chandelure on the high ceiling, although that might have been an _actual Chandelure_. Oak couldn't tell, his eyes refusing to focus. He guided Elm to a table, sitting him down and letting him lay his head down as he moved to the buffet to get the poor Johto professor a strong cup of coffee.  
He glanced at Sycamore as the Kalosian professor immediately made a Combeeline towards the cooked breakfast, his exclamation of '_mon dieu, Grumpig rashers!_' being clearly heard across the entire dining hall.

Oak took the coffee back towards Elm, setting it down in front of him and sitting next to him, trying to work out whether he was actually hungry or it was merely the tiredness giving the illusion of being hungry. There was a buzzing sound- the Holocaster that Sycamore had insisted all of the professors get (as free samples, apparently) was ringing, as was the one Elm had in his pocket, although the other professor was so engaged in his drink he didn't notice it.

Oak opened it up, spotting Sycamore from across the dining hall open his up, right in the middle of the breakfast buffet line, his tray laid down on the rails and a socialite making an angry noise that Oak was able to hear from the other end of the hall before going around the Professor, complaining about the '_rude foreigners with their strange technology_'.

"Oak? Sycamore? Elm?" Rowan's voice echoed from the speakers and the projection of him seemed to be fumbling with the controls; Sycamore had given them the Holocasters with the intention of them keeping in touch, but he'd neglected to tell any of them how to use it. "How are you? How is Elm? Is he functioning?"

Oak glanced at Elm, who was staring with dead eyes into his coffee, head supported by both hands. He looked back to Rowan's projection.  
"He's….Alive." Oak replied. "Although he doesn't seem particularly capable of discussing matters. It would probably be better if we sent him home on the Magnet Train and postponed this summit."

The look of utter distaste on Rowan's face was so real Oak almost winced. The projection skipped to Sycamore, who when Oak looked up, was leaning right into the Holocaster, his body bent double and the queue backing up behind him.  
"Monsieur's? Perhaps, if I may, suggest that we convene in the Summit building and decide amongst ourselves if dear Monsieur Elm is capable of…speech?" he asked, looking apologetic. The projection skipped to Rowan, who looked like he'd just received the most awful news, muttering something to himself before realising he was on video chat and smiling without humour, nodding.

"Right….Excellent idea…Sycamore, we will do that. Perhaps we shall meet in half an hour?" he suggested, Oak opening his mouth to correct that maybe an hour would be better before the Sinnoh professor cut him off. "Brilliant. Half an hour it is. I expect to see everyone there."

The projection cut out, and Oak sat there, a little ashamed at himself for not speaking up, eyes catching from the other end of the hall Sycamore struggling to balance his entire breakfast on one tray and carry it over. He stumbled slightly at the end, but the tray remained balanced, Oak tiredly remarking to himself that this was probably some part Kalosian magic.  
He watched as Sycamore joyfully dug into a pile of food- Grumpig rashers, fried Tamatos, Pidgey eggs, fried to perfection and a tradition Kalosian butter croissant with the quiet comment that they were always better when actually made in Kalos.

Oak watched him eat it, half amazed and half horrified that someone so skinny could eat so heartily. He wondered what Sycamore's exercise routine was- he had to do one, where the heck was the fat going? Besides him, Elm had fallen asleep, his nose in an empty coffee cup. Oak shook his shoulder, waking him up with a shriek before he blearily looked around, holding his head.  
"Huh? Where are we going?" he asked, an expression of confusion on his face as he fixed his eyes on Sycamore's mountain of food.

"We're waiting for Sycamore here to finish his breakfast, and then we're going to the Summit building. Hopefully to finish the summit." Oak replied, although feeling less than hopeful about the last sentence. He watched the clock impatiently scowling as it crawled past the half hour mark and Sycamore was only just wiping his mouth. He looked longingly towards the buffet, before looking at the time and realising what Oak had been staring so pointedly at him for.

"We're late, Oak! We're late!" he cried, grabbing his jacket where he'd draped it over a chair and shrugging it on. "Come, Monsieur Rowan is waiting. We mustn't be late!"  
Oak nodded, feeling somewhat insulted by Sycamore's hurriedness despite the fact he'd only just _noticed_ the time. He nudged Elm, who'd gone back to sleep again, and the professor heaved himself up, along with the other professors.  
There was a squelching sound, and Elm heaved up his stomach onto the lush dining hall carpet. Sycamore gagged somewhat, hurrying outside looking pale.

Oak didn't quite remember what happened next. It went along the lines of explaining to the hotel staff what had happened, and then ending up paying for their stay instead of Sycamore paying, because Sycamore was at that moment outside in the fresh air still reeling from the sight of Elm being sick, a cigarette in his shaking hand. He stubbed it out quickly as the two other professors approached, kicking it into the road to make it look like it didn't exist, and putting on what Oak felt was a suspicious mask of sympathy.  
"Mon dieu, Elm, are you all right?" he asked, patting a somewhat green, shivering Elm on the back. Oak glanced at the watch on Sycamore's wrist. They still had time. The Summit building was a ten minute walk away. They could make it. There was still time.

The going was slow, but as the three professors navigated Saffron City streets, they crawled closer and closer to their goal. The sliding doors to the Summit building had never looked so glorious to Oak, and he usually despised the Summit. They slid open, the three professors drawing curious looks from the reception staff as they boarded the elevator and made their way up to the appropriate floor.

Sycamore opened the door for Elm and Oak, Oak leading the shivering Elm with one arm around him, patting his hand sympathetically. The other professors stared, Sycamore walking in and closing the door gently before sitting in the seat he'd sat in the previous day. He dived down, having noticed _the same wicker basket from the day before_.  
Elm, with some difficulty, sat in his chair, and Oak sat in his, running a hand down his face before bursting into tears in front of Rowan. No one raised comments about the fact they were twenty minutes late. In fact, Oak got the distinct impression that at least one of the others had expected them to be later.

They all looked at Elm, for the exception of Sycamore, who was cutting himself a slice of a baguette that seemed to have been from the day before, and Oak, who was still bemoaning the night he'd had in fairly quiet tears.

Rowan shook his head, knowing he'd regret it.  
"I think it may be necessary to postpone this Summit until our esteemed Professor Elm has recovered." He said eventually. He noted immediately that Sycamore's head shot up, and a bright smile crossed his face. He swallowed, ready to take whatever fallout his actions would incur. "We should return to our home regions and meet again in perhaps a month."

Sycamore raised his hand.  
Rowan braced himself.

"If I might suggest something, oui? I planned to explain the miracles of Mega Evolution to you all this Summit, but as we have sadly been cut short, I cannot. Instead, perhaps it would be…ah…_tres bien_, if you all visited Kalos? Oui? A group vacation? I can host you all. It would be my pleasure." He explained, hands together and grinning cheerily at them.  
"The sights of Kalos! And a demonstration of a Mega Evolution by my very own students!" he continued, clapping his hands.

He looked at them all, oblivious to their reactions- Oak was blearily still sobbing, Juniper looked reluctantly interested, Birch looked like he was going to regret whatever decision he made next, Elm, still looked green and unhealthy, and Rowan, well. Rowan looked like he wanted to go back to Sinnoh and never return. Ever.

"It would be a brilliant opportunity, oui?" Sycamore laughed. "How ever could you resist it?"

However indeed, Rowan remarked bitterly to himself as he realised, with a sinking of his heart, there was utterly no way to get round it. A trip to Kalos was inevitable.  
"How about in two months?" it would give him time to recuperate and prepare. "That way we can all be ready for a nice… Relaxing…getaway in faraway Kalos."

Sycamore nodded enthusiastically, blatantly looking forward to it where no one else was.  
"Two months it is!"

* * *

**Tune in next time for the Next Chapter of Professor Tales, the Kalosian Visitation. Or something along those lines.**


End file.
